Before anything else, I own nothing but the original characters. Any content created by RT, or any mentioned artist belongs to them, and them alone. Rest in peace Monty, your vision lives on in us all.

GOLD TRAILER

"And yet, you two by mearly existing prove my point. In being opposed, you create a balance in the world all your own. It takes both extremes, coming together, to form such ideals. The world is full of people, both for freedom, and order, willing to create that balance, even if it means first fighting for it."

July 19, 79th year after the war.

The sun beat down on the desert sands of Vacuo's edge, bathing everything in it's harsh golden rays. The sole paved road that ran through the dunes all the way to Vale was soon assaulted by the spinning tires of a vehicle, shortly followed by another, and another, and another, and another. The lead car maintained it's pace, only to shortly be gained on by the vehicle directly to it's rear. Halcyone Lacquer, face covered in a shemagh and goggles looked in the rear view mirror, and stepped on the gas. The vehicle behind them was attempting a pit maneuver, and that would not end well. Several vials of fire dust rattled around in the back seat of the rat rod coupe. Old, but fast, the chromed car again started to pull ahead of it's followers, the V6 engine gulping down powdered dust in an attempt to speed up.

But it wasn't enough, in one swift motion, the chase car had gotten close enough for it's passenger to lean out the window and throw an explosive at the rear left tire of the coupe. The device detonated on impact, and the blast sent the old car into a roll, tossing it from the road into the sands. The coup's airbags deployed, and it's seat belts locked, sparring Halcyone from too devastating an injury. Bits of trash and loose rounds were sent flying in every direction, as the glass from the windshield and windows broke into millions of pieces bouncing off of every surface in the vehicle's bare metal interior. Sand was flung into the air creating a hazy yellow cloud of silicon, and the dust vials were thrown clear from the vehicle, landing in the wake of parts left by the car as it came apart in it's death spiral.

Finally landing on it's roof, the rat rod ceased it's deadly spin, and a dazed Halcyone unstrapped themselves from the seat. Falling to the roof, Halcyone groaned, aura depleted from the rollover, before grabbing at the edge of the shattered window to pull themselves out of the vehicle. The four vehicles that had been chasing Halcyone came to a halt at the edge of the road, and from the back seat of the last car in the convoy, a tall figure in leather boots, black pants, shirt, vest, duster, head sock, and a white skull mask, stepped out, placing a wide brimmed, flat top upon their head. Each footstep caused the spurs on his boots to rattle, and his gloved hands came to rest on two single action revolvers on either hip.

Halcyone reached for "Road Rage," the machete rifle that had dug itself into the sand not a foot away, before the figure in black kicked it away, and then crouched down in front of the wounded smuggler, the silver buckle on his waist belt coming into view, two snakes eating their tails, the bullets on his pistol belt each engraved with initials of who they were meant for. A big HL stood out at the forefront. "Halcyone, how many times have I had to tell you this? Untaxed SDC dust doesn't leave Vacuo without my say so, especially the purified and refined stuff… So why am I on the border of Vale, baking in the sun, chasing after you?" The man asked in a deep raspy voice, the jaw of his mask moving as he spoke, giving the unassuming man or woman the impression the mask was in fact his face. "Because if I remember right… This makes it the third time I've had to tell you. The first time, you got caught at the airport, my boys smacked you around, the second time, that piece of shit you bought broke down at the wall, and guess who towed you back home, and now here we are, your junk car destroyed…" The man's words were punctuated by the vehicle he pointed to spontaneously catching fire. "The dust you tried profiting off of, scattered in the sand. And to top it all off, you've run out of favors…" The man said, pulling the cattleman revolver off his right hip. "So go ahead and beg for your life." He said, inserting the bullet marked HL into the cylinder, and pointing the gun at Halcyone's head. Halcyone reached out and grabbed the man's boot, only for him to sigh. "Your semblance isn't going to work on me, you know this…"

Halcyone dropped their hand into the sand, and looked up at the masked man, then pulled the goggles and scarf away, revealing the shrapnel scarred face of a woman, who could be easily mistaken for a young man, soon to be 17. "Come on Black, you promised. Promised I'd be able to make enough money to go to a huntsman academy." Halcyone said, only for the now named Black to shrug.

"Never said it had to be the most expensive of them all." Black said.

"Come on man, this run would have been the last one, I'd have made enough money to pay for tuition at Beacon." Halcyone pleaded.

"If you'd have never bought that piece of shit, you'd have had the money months ago. And either way getting caught at the border is not something The Cobras need on our wrap sheet right now." Black said in a hiss.

"It was just a few lien more, Black. I could have been free. 50 more lien was all I needed." Halcyone said. Reminding him of the only way out of The Cobras… A rule he'd made decades ago.

Black looked at the destroyed car, then at the horizon, then finally to the edge of the desert, where the sand turned to a savanna, and shortly beyond, the forests bordering Vale. "Damn it Lacquer… Alright, how about we cut a deal. I pay you for that piece of scrap you call a vehicle, take off the price of the dust you wasted, and the dust it took to drive out here, and give you a ride to the nearest town. In exchange, I don't ever want to see you again." Black said, putting his revolver back in it's holster. "Should come out to about 80 lien." Black said, offering a hand to Halcyone.

After a moment, Halcyone took the offered hand, and was pulled to her feet. "Where's the extra 30 coming from?" She asked, only for Black to punch her in the face, breaking her nose, and causing her to fall back into the sand.

"To pay for your dry cleaning." Black said, watching as Halcyone bled all over her undershirt and leather jacket, shortly before fading into unconsciousness, as two of Black's men began dragging her into one of the vehicles. "Stay safe kid. The world's gonna need you." Black thought as the car drove off.